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ARDYN IZUNIA

Ardyn Izunia. Professor of law. Lord of law. Liege of law. The one grading your papers. Leave a message.

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[mercurio]

[prompto's face feels hot at the idea of being offered an apology; of an adult admitting to doing something wrong towards him and wishing to rectify said wrong. prompto doesn't answer what ardyn is implying, as he instead turns to a page with writing, and stubbornly starts reading out loud.]

A Chocobo Among Sunflowers, by Prompto Argentum.

[he turns the page again.]

The darkness of the night was the perfect cover, but it did nothing to quell the persistent feeling that someone was watching him. The air was muggy, summer nights offering no comfort from the intense heat of the day. There was no breeze, either, but a place as landlocked as this one, there was no hope of ever receiving the blessings of the ocean's cooler and salty breeze. It was not something that the boy wasn't used to in his life, but the pervasive feeling of freedom kept nagging at his bones, ever since he found out that the egg he had found, as a child, and taken care of until it hatched was a golden-yellow creature--apparently the last of its kind.

The chains at his ankles were easy enough to remove, having spent years toying with the lock's mechanism, and although this was so the boy never saw it a need to leave this dreadful place. It was home, for all he knew, and the fact that he wasn't worth enough gold to make a profit gave him the exhausted notion that he was not wanted elsewhere.

Hiding behind barrels filled with feed, there was only one thing he wanted from this place before he left.

A sad chirp came from the barn.

The value of the chocobo he had grown up with was not something his owners knew of. Chocobo were considered to be dumb creatures, wild and ugly, with little chance for a big exchange in gold. A local merchant noticed it in recent days, however, and the news spread fast. Royalty wished for it, to see it and then own it, to be part of their collections, without realizing that it already belonged to another.

Sunny was shackled to the floor of the barn, the chain bruising its foot whenever it pulled.

"It's me," the boy whispered, shushing the startled chocobo, pressing gentle hands into its soft plumage. The chocobo relaxed, leaning her head against the boy's own. Even so, the feeling of urgency became one of panic now that he actually was here, but his hands worked deftly on the chain, muttering soft words of comfort whenever Sunny became too agitated.

The chocobo rose to her full height--three feet she had grown--once the chain clicked apart. Feathers rustled, and the boy didn't have a chance to grab a saddle. It would just be what food he managed to steal and put into a makeshift bag, tight around his chest, as he climbed up.

The moment they stormed out of the barn it was chaotic; the horses were startled and the dogs started barking. Light flooded from the inside of the caravans, doors opening frantically, and the shout of men and women alerting those still asleep, "thief!," but the boy and his chocobo were already running, past the lights of the outside torches and into the woods surrounding the campsite. One thing Sunny was good at was running, and could she run, even if they were now in what many consider to be treacherous woods.

In here, the darkness of the night became heavier, inky black, almost impossible to be able to discern shapes at all. But the boy felt wind on his hair, whistling past his ears, chasing away the drops of sweat on his brow--and he was smiling, holding a cluster of feathers tightly in his hands.

Their first taste of freedom was the stomping of heavy feet running on leaves and fallen branches, and the boy's exhilarated yell into the night.

[.....]

End of chapter one.